Comfort
by hybridbpv
Summary: One-shot Smut. Heavy smut. Clintasha/Blackeye. What really happened in the infirmary? Coarse language, adult content, etc etc. I don't own the characters. I thought of the story. COMPLETED (29/01/13)


Clint laid on the bed, grunting, trying to regain his mind. Natasha sat beside him, watching carefully. Although his hands were bind on the sides of the bed, he was still an assassin, and he was still dangerous. Natasha knew that. She knew she needed to make sure that it was all clear before she uncuffed his wrists.

_"Clint," _Natasha finally said, _"You're going to be alright."_

_"You know that?" _Hawkeye laughed._ "Is that what you know?"_

Natasha looks at him, letting out a long sigh. _He's alright. He's alright. He's sweating and locked up, but he's alright._

_"My head." _He finally pants. _"I've got no window. I have to flush him out."_

Natasha stared at him attentively before standing and pouring him a glass of water. "Listen, Clint." She sits on the side of his bed, uncuffing his wrist with her right hand and handing him the cup with her left. He proceeded uncuffing the other one before taking her hand. Her mouth attacks his, her hands coming up to caress his face. "Clint…" He feels a dampness between their cheeks.

"Natasha." He looks at her, taking in all her beauty, but at the same time, the tear on her face shocked him. "Shh… It's me, it's me." He pulls her closer so that she sat on his lap. His hands move behind her neck, massaging her the way only he could.

"Clint… Clint… I thought I would never see you again. I thought… Loki…" Her eyes glistened with fear. "I was so scared I would never see you again."

They sat, nose to nose, in each others arms. Clint gently massaging her back, moving his hands in small circles. Clint didn't know what to say. The emotion that she showed was too… alien. He was hunting in unfamiliar territory. The Widow didn't show emotion. It just wasn't her.

Clint savoured her mouth once again, their tongues fighting to be in each other's throats. His hands wandered feverishly around her body, caressing her every curve over her suit. She arched herself into his touch. And for the first time in a few days, he was sure that it was real, he was sure that this was his _Tasha._

"Natasha… hey, look at me." Their eyes met, blue with green, and they held the gaze, intense. If this were a cinematic movie, there would be sparks flying, a romantic violinist playing in the background. But in the infirmary, all was silent. "You have me now."

She nodded as she wiped a tear away from her cheek. "I want you." She uttered as she undid her zip and quickly slipped out of her suit.

"Oh, no, Tasha. I _need_ you." Clint savoured the sight in front of him. Pure Natasha. Her perfect, pale skin - so smooth, like running his hands through a sheet of white silk. Her big, slightly red, green eyes torturously seducing him. His bulge straining on the rough seam of his pants. Natasha quickly released him from his prison, his erection standing tall, in all his glory. Her mouth came down to savour his taste. _Clint's taste._ The taste she loved so much, his undefeated feeling in her mouth. His veins jutting out of all his glory. And damn, he was so hot. However many days he went without showering, Natasha didn't care. He tasted stronger, muskier than usual, but she didn't care. As long as he was back. As long as he was back, and he was sane, and he still cared for her. Nothing else really mattered.

"God, Tasha, take it easy." Clint moved his hands on her head, grasping stray locks from her face and gently guiding her up and down his length. Her mouth felt too good on him, slowly sucking, her tongue teasing the tip. He groaned, pushing her deeper. Natasha dug her nails in his thighs. The unified feeling of pain and pleasure - Clint closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, veins bulging on his arms, fighting to control himself from his primal instinct. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her and frighten her. "Tasha. I need you. Now."

Natasha came up and gave him a sly smile before sliding completely out of her suit. Standing before him naked, it made her feel so good, she belonged to him, he owned her in any, every way. He eyed her body. _All your's, baby._

"Tasha. Now." Clint demanded again. Natasha wanted to pounce on him. Give him a nice, rough, quick and primal fucking. But, no. They needed it slow. They both _knew_ that they needed it slow. This was different from their normal, regular fucks. No. This was different. This was how they conveyed their feelings. And right now, there was too much of it.

Natasha straddled his thighs, licking her lips as he guided her hands along his body. Their mouths met, teeth clashing. Clint loved the taste of himself in her mouth, it was one of the most erotic things, and he loved it. She positioned herself on top of him, rubbing him up and down her slit, occasionally brushing the tip on her throbbing clit, but not quite letting him penetrate her. He growled. "You fucking tease." She gave him a sly smile. She was so naughty and hot and dirty for him. Only for _him._ And then she lowered herself, closer, until she had him at the hilt. His hands flew up to her nipples, caressing, pinching roughly, trying to pleasure her as much as she did him.

Clint moved his head closer to her ear, nibbling, trying to contain himself. She was so tight. So beautiful. He brought his lips close to her neck and took a big whiff. There was a slight tang of a metallic smell - her blood from the cut on her forehead. But most of all he could smell her arousal. The brilliant scent of musk and saltiness combined with something that he couldn't exactly pinpoint.

Hawkeye. S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him the nickname because of his incredible eyesight. And he put that to use. To see every little tense beneath her skin, every squirm and movement she made, the way her body convulses. It was a gift from God, not only on the field, but with Tasha as well. And his incredibly strong, calloused fingers gripped her tight, pulled her close as they rocked together on the bed. He felt the familiar pulsing in her body. The waves of pleasure running through her body, her shivers and inaudible little moans.

"God, Clint, I think… _oh_!" Natasha was growling. Her head was thrown back and red hair all over the place. Clint grinned.

He loved it when he had her growling, because to her, it was always a competition. She always wanted his pleasure first, but Clint was too good at his game. Waiting was his thing, and his patience never seemed to wear out.

But Tasha didn't want to give up. She clenched her teeth while her nails clawed at his biceps, trying to muffle her moans and delaying herself from pleasure. Clint knew that he could send her over the edge, but he didn't. The subtle squeezing on his manhood was one of the most beautiful things in life. To be pleasured by his… his partner. And soon, the feeling would be so overwhelming for her that she would sing for him. Those notes that define her pleasure and her feelings when her body convulses around him. And right at that moment where she was about to sing, Clint had a realisation.

"Stop." Clint spit. "Stop…" He placed his hands firmly on her hips, holding her down and stopping her movement. And of course, Tasha squirmed and protested with her whimpers, but she stayed still. "Tasha… I don't think we can deny it any more… I know you think love is for children and you don't believe in it, but I do. And if you deny me any longer… After what he put into my mind… I think I've gone insane. You bring me back. You are the only one I know that is real. I have feelings for you and I'm not going to lie to myself any more. So if this changes anything, we might as well part ways after this. I'll disappear… I need a rock - you are that rock, but if you don't want to be, I won't force you. I love you."

Natasha stared at him with tears in her eyes. All the pleasure from her face was gone. Her shoulders were tense. Perhaps this _does_ change things. Her hands came down to touch his hands. She was slowly stroking his fingers, his wrists, and his skin. _Can you live without his warmth? _Natasha remained silent and removed herself from him.

The bed was small, but Natasha was smaller. She curled up on top of his chest, listening to his breathing. This is it. After all that she's tried to avoid, all that she's tried to ignore. After all of that, this was what it all boils down to. _Feelings._ His hand came up to her shoulders, protectively stroking and touching her. But at this moment, Natasha grew more uncomfortable. That confession was not planned, not expected, nor wanted. She wanted to stay as they were - as partners. No strings attached. Goosebumps started forming on her skin.

"I… Clint, you know me well enough to see that I am not what you think I am, and I can't be what you want me to be." Natasha closed her eyes and whispered. Clint waited. "I need you."

"I need you too." Clint whispered.

"Don't go. I want to be with you… I'll learn to…_ love_ you." Natasha hissed the words, but Clint didn't care. She made the effort to confront her fears, for him. A tear trickled down to his suit.

"Tasha, I know this scares you, but you already do. You won't learn to _love_ me, you'll learn to _accept_ it." Clint hushed. "Now… I want to take care of your pleasure." Natasha's mouth curled up into a small smile. "Turn around. I want you from behind." Natasha complied and rolled onto her side, her front pressed against the wall.

It wasn't long before Clint was in her again. He took his time running his hands along her body, along her curves and through her hair. He guided himself into her, gently encircling her with his arms. His mouth was next to her ear and he made sure that she heard the smallest breath he made. They were trickling with sweat, grinding against each other, their bodies tangled and as one.

"Let's finish what we started." Clint grinned as he reached around Natasha's waist and touching her slowly, sensually. Natasha bucked against him. She couldn't remember any occasion that they would actually take the time to enjoy each other's company, because they were never together. And at last, she could revel in his scent and his_ love._ The first jolts of pleasure shot through her body when his rough fingertips brushed against her throbbing clit.

"Hnngg." Natasha moaned. Her eyes were shut tight, and all that was on her mind was her pleasure, and Clint. There was no way she would let him stop her this time.

"Don't hold back, baby." Clint soothed as his expert hands massaged her sex in a way that only he could. The roughness of his fingers reminded her of his time on the field, his strength, his dexterity, and the day the could've killed her, but instead changed her. She bit on her lip - the man she _loved_, yes, the man she loved and loved her back was and is all she ever needs. So she let herself go.

Natasha gave one last soft moan before arching her back and shivering violently. Clint could feel her so well, how she clamped onto his manhood and gyrated her hips. Her hands clawed at the sheets and pillow, but flailed aimlessly. And no matter how she wanted to mute herself, she couldn't, because her pleasure was overflowing. And just to push her a teensy bit more, he nipped at her neck. Her hands flew back to scratch his thighs, and he bit harder. She drew blood. He felt himself quickening. He gripped her soft breasts as he teased her hard nipples with his free hand. She gasped and kept herself going. She never ceased to blow his mind. And he felt it. His own body betraying himself. His cock twitched and pulsed of its own accord. And he lost it. He plunged deep inside her one last time so Natasha screamed in both pleasure and agony. Oh, he stretched her good. For one last time, his cock widened as he infected her with his pleasure, his love. He held her as they panted. His heart pounded against her back, and he was still a little fuzzy inside, but this blissful feeling didn't wash away.

He had seen her like this many times before, but this time it wasn't quite the same. There was the air of ease between them, finally. He had waited so long for the courage to confront her. Maybe this wasn't the reaction he was expecting or looking for. Clint had trust issues too. Maybe he was looking for her to runaway. But she stayed, and she said that she will stay, and he just couldn't stop smiling. Clint was a man who was in love, and he held the woman that loved him.

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That's all, folks! please favourite and review - much appreciated (: xx


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